Twenty-two now! I almost forgot to blog about this, since I was home, away from the online world, for almost the entire month of October. My birthday wasn’t today, mind you. It was on October 23, the Thai national holiday Piyamaharas Day. As a kid I always thought I was special, because I was born on the day everybody had to take a day off for.

Anyhow, let me summarize my entire 21st year and give some projections for the year that is to come. (Sounds like some business review. =*=)

Hmm, guess what, I don’t exactly remember! It had been a year of change. I’m not so religious anymore, especially the last 4 months, after I met Luangphor Posri. I had worked hard at P&G as an intern during the summer. Before that, during the last semester of my junior year, my school work went smoothly I guess, because I don’t remember a single thing from it. As for friends and relationships, there was nothing striking, except for some dots here and there that made me realize that I’m a flirtaholic at heart. To sum up, my 21st year was:

Nothing.

Unlike my 20th year which was devoted to fulfilling religious goals and trying to escape pain, in my 21st year, I realized that there was nothing unearthly about the highly hailed Nirvana, but that it is nothing but twined in our everyday life. I guess you can say that my viewpoint has shifted such that Nirvana = Nothing. So my life has become Nothing as well.

As for the 23rd year projections, all I can say that they seem to be Nothing as well. God, I’ve living the life of a goldfish in a tank.

Being bored at dorm, I figured I could cook some fairytale out of my dorm things. The story is about a pink piggy named Poko. Unravel him through Flickr. :)

Here’s a snapshot. Click to read.

I’ve lived 22 years of my life, only to realize that these few important facts are the grassroots of me. They model my behavior and explain all my wants and desires, from birth till today. Here goes:

1. I have a big ego.

2. My ego says I should win over everybody, Einstein and Buddha inclusive.

3. I am only happy when (2) is satisfied.

4. Because of (2), I learned to jump rope, do karate, play basketball, and make web applications. Because of (2), I paid attention to my work, strove for leadership positions, and went to MIT. Because of (2), I moved my mouth to speak each day.

5. I am prejudiced. I always think that my beliefs are superior to others’.

6. My emotions take the reins of my reasons, although I’ve always thought it is the other way around.

These facts have the implications that:

1. I never finish playing a game. I lose interest once I have discovered the game’s patterns or have defeated all my friends.

2. I take on challenges just for the sake of proving that I can achieve them. For example, I wanted to go to LSE, not to earn a degree, but to show that I could go.

3. I never had a free summer. I was always surrounded by millions of projects, which I would drop if I was sure of succeeding or failing. Those which were uncertain I would take on.

4. I don’t have close friends or companions. Why do I need them again?

5. I’m always preoccupied with myself.

Gee! That’s not how I want to be!

Chatting with @tewson today over dinner, I was struck with another revelation of truth:

tewson: When are you going to take your IELTS?

me: Hmm? I don’t have to take it.

tewson: Aren’t you going to UK?

me: Oh, not anymore. You see, I read this book called “Introduction to Social Science,” and it made me realize that there is no right, and there is no wrong in this world. Everything is a matter of viewpoint — how you look at the situation. Different people have different views; that’s why there are so many ideas in this world. To do research is to add another viewpoint into the pool. It is just useless.

tewson: Yeah, but even if everything is meaningless, you must pick up something to make a living.

me: I know, but there is nothing that I value anymore. So I don’t want to do anything, because I  want to do only things that I think are important.

tewson: For me, I want to be a researcher. When I am a researcher, I’ll get to see my own work piled up in a stack. They are my achievements. I guess you can say I value my ego.

Well, if there’s nothing left, at least one thing that is left is my ego, right? Or else the world would be so doleful.

me: It doesn’t matter if the world is doleful or not doleful. If that’s the way it is, then it’s the way that is.

To tell you the truth, I think what’s really left of me is my ego, too.

Coming back from P&G, I see in myself an increasing urge to excel and strive for perfection.The people there are so stressed and preoccupied with work! One person handles a conglomeration of different things—just like a crazy walking-talking maniac who tries to finish a shipload of work in one day. It is crazy!

The people here are also very talkative and straightforward. I guess it’s because they do not have the time to think too much and make straight things crooked. Their best utilization of time is to just say what they feel, and to feel what they say. This is one good point about them.

I’m a junkie for praises. I fall to my knees every time I hear one (from someone with rank). Just one praise can send me into the deepest and scariest of jungles if that’s what it takes to get my work done perfectly. I don’t even care about death! Oh, my goodness! All I want is to hear more of those praises.

Lucky enough, nowadays I realize soon enough before I fall into the same trap. I come to my senses just right at the mouth of the jungle—what am I getting into? Answer: Deep and scary jungles. What is it for again? Answer: For one more praise.

Therefore, I think it is wiser to stop here.

P&G is a damn good place that never lacks in giving praises. That’s why I keep falling for it over and over again. It’s like a sandpit that never fails to entice—to suck you in again and again. One lesson in mind: If you ever want me to do something for you, a praise always does the trick. ;)

I want to open a Krachay-drink shop. If you haven’t heard, Krachay is a type of vegetable with a host of benefits, such as balancing your hormones, growing back your hair for bald men, keeping your menstrual cycles regular for women, and nourishing your brain and bones. It also tastes pretty good. I made it for my dad a few weeks ago, and he’s been asking for it ever since every single day. He said it was a rejuvinizer.

This is what Krachay looks like, in its raw form:

My plan is to open a Krachay drink shop at Lotus Onnuch (because it’s near my house). It’s an ideal last stop for the BTS, where many people stop by for food, before taking another ride back to their homes. Estimating that rent in the food court should be about 50,000 baht/month, I’ll have to make 10 kg of Krachay a day, if I were to sell at 15 baht/bottle, in order to earn a somewhat sumptuous profit. This is based on the recipe that 100 g of Krachay yields 500 ml of Krachay drink, and that I package my bottle at 250 ml.

I’ll have two types of packaging: one for drinking here and one for taking home. If you take it home, you’ll get the boring bottle. If you drink here, you’ll get a cup. But not just any cup. It’s the cup with an umbrella:

When you see a person sitting at a food court, drinking from a cup with a cocktail umbrella, what would you naturally do? You would look around, trying to figure out where he got the drink! And of course, it could only be from me, the Krachay drink shop. Then he would also get a Krachay drink, sit down at a food court table, another person notices the umbrella, and the multiplier effect would occur. Haha!

A cocktail umbrella costs just 1 baht, in my estimation. But what it can do is not only attract more customers, but also give middle-class men a chance at a 300-baht cocktail drink, by spending all but only 15 baht. The umbrella not only does advertising-by-packaging, but it also increases the product’s value. The cup with an umbrella sells not only the drink, but also an identity.

As for the investment, I will need 50,000 baht for the first month’s rent, 20,000 baht for first month’s materials, and 10,000 baht for banners and other miscellany. I don’t plan on it surviving to the second month, so my investment should not exceed 80,000 baht.

Now who’s with me?

My dad was a Political Science major, with minors in Economics and History. That was at the San Francisco State University, which was one of the best in Political Science at the time, in league with Yale and the like. I’m pretty impressed with my dad–he took all the subjects I like! But what’s more, he graduated in just two and a half years. One major and two minors, mind you.

And he didn’t know that until he met mom years later. Mom was sifting through his transcript when she noticed that it was a very short transcript. She counted the semesters on it and exclaimed, “You graduated in only two and a half years?” Dad replied, “No, I was in the states for four years. Wait, I was a delivery boy for a year. That’s right, I spent only two and a half years at SFSU! I never knew!” So luckily the fact was revealed and passed on to me.

Dad later got his MBA in Finance from NIDA, where he met Mom, and where Mom got her MBA in Marketing or Management, I’m not so sure. Anyway, I’m just so proud of my dad, and wondering if I would become like him?

Except mine would be from LSE, muahahah. Just kidding.

By the way, he’s the guy in ชายผู้วิเศษ, in case any of you was wondering.

To be or not to be, that is the question.

Hamlet, Shakespeare

I could once recite the whole verse! But that is irrelevant; talk about now. I need an Oreo. Or so I thought.

A foodaholic is something like a shopaholic:

When you eat, the whole world gets better. The world is better. And then it’s not anymore. So you have to do it again.

Rebecca Bloomwood, The Confession of a Foodaholic

Pathetic. I’m off to 7-Eleven. Stockholders, you should be proud.

The Lethargic School of Eggnogs? I’m just joking, seriously.

Well, I’m interested in this school, because I’ve lately been playing with the idea of going for a Master’s in Economics.

And it looked just like Harry Potter:

Or so a modernized Harry Potter.

Plus, I’ve taken a fancy to British accent. Luke Brandon is just so romantic:

However, mainly it’s my love for Economics that makes my heart flutter. How could you not be, when it takes human emotions and maps them to a graph? You know, those million different feelings reduced to just two axes and a wiggly line? It’s plain awesome.

Who knows I could become the next George Soros.

When Spring comes, the flowers bloom. Yellow dandelions, white cadillacs, the dazzling dahlias… well, none of those are in Thailand, so let’s change them to ดอกจำปา, ดอกกุหลาบ, and ดอกเข็ม. Imagine running as fast as you can through a field of sunflowers, their golden faces brushing against yours, or driving along a boulevard of trees, their pliant branches bowing down to you, showing off their bright colors flowing from curtains of vines.

That is Spring.

Spring comes once a year, though I don’t think that is true. The Greeks invented a story of Persephone and Demeter; the abduction and the coming back of the queen of the Underworld; and the goddess of Spring to explain the change in the temperature, the climate that makes up the different seasons, makes up what we call Winter, what we call Spring, what we call Summer, and what we call Fall. But guess what? I think it always is Spring.

Think of butterflies fluttering among the juiciest shrubs of ดอกจำปา. That is Spring.

Think of white, marshmallow clouds flowing in the mildest of breezes. That is Spring.

Think of smiling children giggling in the simplest of playgrounds, made of wood. The paint has peeled, yet the wood is well-worn, as shiny as ever as one child after the other skids down its slider, or jumps at its seesaw. That is Spring.

Think of you working behind your computer, staring at the screen for one-third of your entire life. That’s eight hours a day. That is also Spring. You know why?

It’s because your heart is dancing.

Your heart danced when you saw those curtains of vines opening before you as you drove your way through the boulevard. Your heart danced when you saw those children giggled. Why couldn’t your heart also dance when you’re working at the most dull, routinous job before a computer with 17-inches widescreen?

It’s because you don’t like it, and you’re trying to get away from it.

But what if… what if you don’t try to get away from it? What if you were an Eagle soaring high above it all, looking down at you working on the dull job, would the dull job matter anymore? No! Because it’d have become unimportant and minuscule. And your heart could be dancing. In the Spring.

The revered Master Uguay (in the Kungfu Panda) once said:

You think too much about what was and what will be. Noodles, don’t noodles. Quit, don’t quit. Why not stay with what is now? That’s why they call it the present.

Presently, it is Spring.